


All I Want is to be With You

by AlyKat



Series: Something to Believe In [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha Crowley (Good Omens), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), But He's Also A Good Friend, Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley.exe has stopped working, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No beta we fall like Crowley, Omega Aziraphale (Good Omens), Omega Verse, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), There's a whole pine forest to be had here folks, Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wings, potentially will be expanded upon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23391712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyKat/pseuds/AlyKat
Summary: In the 6,000 years Crowley has known Aziraphale, he'd never known the Omega to have had a Heat before. Figured they had been on Earth long enough, Aziraphale was away from Heaven enough, maybe he'd gone more native than they'd thought and just didn't get them anymore.Of course, he'd be wrong.And worse, he'd be the one to help his angel through his Heat, even if it meant pushing aside his feelings and pretending he didn't want so much more...
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Something to Believe In [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691431
Comments: 73
Kudos: 406





	All I Want is to be With You

**Author's Note:**

> So, it turns out I've had some strain of Strep throat for basically the last week (clinic only runs tests for one of the strains and it came back negative, so who knows) and so my sickly self wanted some comfort and since there's so few ABO fics out there I decided to write one myself. I'm going to leave it kind of open-ended, though. Depending on what kind of a response this gets, I may turn it into a sort of mini-series kind of thing since I have some ideas that would expand it into a full length fic, but don't have the brain power at the moment to do so, plus, I'm hesitant out of fear no one would be interested in this. So, depending on the response, there may be a sequel to this that delves into the aftermath of this first shared Heat.

Aziraphale shifted in his armchair restlessly. It had been like that the whole day. He’d found a book he’d wanted to start reading, made his cocoa, and had settled in to get lost in the world of J.M. Barrie’s design. Except, as the hours passed, he found himself growing more and more uncomfortable, more restless and fidgety. The air in the bookshop felt thick, and though he didn’t need to sweat, his corporation seemed to think he did, and so had begun to dampen the collar of his pale blue button-down and cause the curls at his temples to clump together in little groups that seemed to grasp his skin for dear life. 

Something wasn’t quite right. 

His mind began to wander off from the pages of his book. Drift to thoughts that hardly seemed to be his own. How could they be his own, after all? What angel had thoughts of a demon shoving them up against a wall and slotting their mouths together in a desperate, frantic kiss? Or have that same demon slip a thigh between the angel’s legs, grasp their hips, and help guide the angel into the friction they so desired, so  _ needed _ ? No. No, surely they couldn’t be  _ his _ thoughts. It wasn’t proper. 

He wasn’t going to dwell on the fact the demon in his thoughts happened to be tall and lanky and gangly with fiery red hair, dark glasses, and a smile that, when it was an honest, open, bright,  _ true _ smile, caused his stomach to swoop and swish and send a tendral of liquid warmth to the pit of his stomach. Oh no. No, no, no, absolutely not.  _ No. _

Of course, just because he kept telling himself no didn’t mean his body would listen. Some things were just biological. Yes, even angels had biology. They had needs and wants and desires, just like anyone else (or, perhaps it was just him, he wasn’t sure since he had always been too shy and scared to bring it up in meetings with the archangels). 

The muscles of his lower back cramped and tightened as he tried to get comfortable again. Everything had started to feel a bit much, for some reason. He’d shucked his waistcoat an hour prior, his bowtie hung undone around his neck, the top three buttons of his shirt pulled from their homes in an attempt to cool himself down a bit. The feel of fabric against his skin had become rough and scratchy instead of the comfortable and familiar weight he’d snuggle himself into for the last hundred years or so, give or take a couple decades, of course. Working the tension from his shoulders and neck, Aziraphale took a deep breath...and froze. 

Oh. 

_ Ohhh… _

Something inside him finally clicked. Some long forgotten aspect of his angelic being. Honestly, he couldn’t be blamed for forgetting. It’d been nearly 500 years, after all, since the last time he’d felt anything remotely close to this. Back then, though, hadn’t been terrible. A couple of days of awkward discomfort, hiding himself away so the humans didn’t see him and think him possessed by a demon…

Oh but to be possessed by a demon. To have  _ his _ demon inside him. Hold him down and claim him, mark him, bind them together in all the intimate and important ways. Growl in his ear as he--

_ No _ ! No! He couldn’t think like that! He couldn’t! 

A trembling whimper bubbled up in his throat as he quickly stood and ensured the shop would stay closed and undisturbed for at least a week. The slick forming between his legs was terribly embarrassing and truly he was grateful no one was around to see the damp spot that was forming on his bottom. He needed to get out of the shop. Get up to his flat and hide himself away until the whole humiliating mess was over and he could bear to show his face again. 

Book and cocoa forgotten where they lay, Aziraphale hurried up the stairs and locked his door. Everything was fine. Everything was perfectly fine. The few Heats he’d had in the past had never been anything terrible, and he’d handled them quite well on his own, thank you very much. 

Of course, those times were  _ before _ Crowley’s Alpha scent had soaked into every corner of his life. 

~*~*~

Crowley made his way into the bookshop, swinging a ring of keys on his finger and humming happily to himself. They weren't his keys, of course, he'd found them on the ground outside the shop and thought it perfectly demonic of himself to pick them up and pocket them. Oh, alright, so he'd eventually get them back to their rightful owner, but a former agent of Hell needed to get his fun somewhere, right? 

Of course, the doors to the bookshop knew better than to remain locked for him. He expected them to be unlocked when he arrived and so they were. What he did  _ not  _ expect to find was a faint scent of fear. No, not fear, per se, discomfort? That seemed like a better word. Discomfort then. Discomfort, urgency, and...buttercream frosting? That couldn't be right. Except, it was. He definitely smelled buttercream frosting in the air. Homemade, at that. There was something else though, something drawing him towards the back staircase where the frosting scent and -- fresh rain, that had to be it, fresh rain in spring -- was stronger and more pronounced. It was the most Heavenly thing he'd ever smelled. And he'd smelled Heaven. It didn't begin to compare. 

"Angel?" He called, doing a slow spin in place to look around. "You in?"

No one answered. Not verbally at least. A wave of frosting and fresh rain scents, though, slammed into him and had him stumbling backwards a bit. It was too strong of a scent, one that caused his Alpha instincts to fire up and start revving. An Omega in Heat. And the only Omega around, on  _ Earth _ honestly, was a fussy, prim, bastard of a former angel who, as far as Crowley knew, had never had a Heat in all the years they'd known each other. 

In a flash Crowley was standing at the top of the stairs outside Aziraphale's door. Oh the scent was so strong, so beautiful and intoxicating. The finest vintage paled in comparison. He could stand right there on the landing and get well and truly pissed from the scent. Aziraphale's scent. Eyes closed, he stood there simply breathing the scent in, letting it swirl around him, fill his lungs and leave him wanting more. Instincts were a bitch, and honestly, Crowley felt himself cringe when he realized he was standing there like some mindless, creepy, Alpha. 

Well, he was an Alpha, so that part was acceptable. And there were times he was sure Aziraphale thought him brainless. Creepy, though? No. Crowley tried very hard not to creep on his best friend. 

With more willpower than he knew he had, he rapped his knuckles against the door before rattling the knob. 

“Angel? You alright?” 

Everyone needed to ignore how thick his voice sounded, if you’d be so kind. 

From within the flat, a soft whimper sounded as an answer, but nothing else. Crowley frowned and tried the knob again, a soft growl escaping him when it refused to turn under his hand. 

“Aziraphale,” He tried again. “Let me in, Angel.” 

Another whimper, this one closer to the door, and oh that sweet, sweet scent drifted out to him again to drive him mad. 

“C-Crowley? Uh...I...I’m sorry but, well...I...ooooh…” Aziraphale’s voice was tight with panic. 

A fierce protectiveness reared up within Crowley, that deep ingrained  _ need _ to provide and protect and comfort an Omega in distress. It called out to Aziraphale in the form of his own pheromones: warm spiced cider, the woods in autumn, and crisp moonlit nights. On the other side of the door, Aziraphale gasped and whined. Locks rattled but didn’t open, as if he were trying to fight his own nature and sentence himself to suffering through his Heat alone. 

Now, granted, Crowley didn’t have experience dealing with any being that was in Heat (general animals of the Earth notwithstanding); all the humans were betas and therefore held no real interest for him; all the demons -- as far as he knew anyway -- were Alphas; which left the angels as Omegas. There’d been a reason behind it all once upon a time, he was fairly certain of that, but it had been several thousand years (six to be exact) since he’d last been a welcomed entity in the hallowed halls of the Heavenly Host. 

If his mind weren’t so preoccupied with events that were unfolding in front of him just then, he’d probably be able to remember a time when all angels were either Alphas or Omegas. They’d bond and mate and through their coupling create new angels. It had been a wonderful design aspect, God thought. When the rebellion happened though, when the most powerful of her Alphas tried to demand answers from her and rose up against Her and was cast out along with his following, She’d decided enough angels had been created. From that moment forth, any being that fell in line with the powerful Alpha Lucifer was sentenced to being a designated Alpha themselves. If they wanted to fight, She would let them fight each other. As for the angels left behind? Well, most were Omega to begin with, and to prevent more generations from being created without her consent, they all were to be Omegas. Unable to mate or bond or create with each other from that day on. 

Crowley’s mind, however,  _ was _ a bit preoccupied at the moment to remember all that. He pressed his forehead to the door, palm flat against the cool, smooth surface. Aziraphale was just on the other side, he could feel him. Crowley wasn’t about to force himself on Aziraphale, he wasn’t like the other demons of Hell that found sick pleasure in tempting certain humans into raping others. It was beyond wrong -- well, obviously, demons and all, sort of the point really -- but it was something Crowley had never and  _ would never _ condone. He cared about Aziraphale far too much to ever hurt him in such a way, he was just worried about him. He didn’t want Aziraphale to have to deal with things on his own, not when Crowley was right there and could help ease at least some of the discomfort. 

With another staggering display of will power, Crowley took a deep breath and forced himself to try and reel some of his desire back in. “Aziraphale? I’m gonna go, okay? Just...call me if you need anything.” 

On the other side of the door, locks quickly clicked just as the door swung wide open. Unprepared for his temporary headrest to get yanked out from under him, Crowley’s gangly legs tumbled him forwards and into Aziraphale’s humble little flat. 

“Oh...Oh dear...I…” Aziraphale’s stammering bit off into a low groan. “Please...Crowley...I...oh,  _ please _ …”

Crowley quickly collected himself and turned back to his best friend. The angel that had always had his heart. Aziraphale’s face was flushed, his platinum curls dark and clumped together against his forehead, and while Crowley could remember a time when clothes left far less to the imagination (not to mention all the Roman bathhouses he and Aziraphale had been in together in their time), seeing his stuffy little angel so undone was nearly scandalous! No camel coat, no velvet waistcoat, no tartan collar, his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest...oh  _ Somebody _ , it was so unfair. Whimpers and whines continued to fill the air, bringing with it stronger and stronger scents of desire and want. 

“Please, what?” Crowley asked. His throat clicked dryly as he raked his eyes up and down Aziraphale’s body before capturing his gaze again. 

“I...th-that is...this…” another strangled groan escaped him and Crowley suddenly found himself with an armful of soft, warm, needy Omega. “Please, Crowley...oh please...please, please please…” 

The Alpha instinct in him growled and snarled, grappling to scoop Aziraphale up, haul him off to the bedroom, and mount him until neither of them could move. Instead, he pulled back, heart breaking at the sobs Aziraphale made once he was at arm’s length. Without realizing it happened, a low growl did finally slip out of Crowley as he yanked his glasses off and tossed them off to the side. Dipping down enough to make eye contact, he waited for a moment before starting again. 

“Angel? You need to talk to me. I know you’re still in there, you can’t be that deep into this heat yet. Talk to me.” 

When the only response he got was another whine and Aziraphale’s attempt to get back into his arms, Crowley clasped his hand hard across the nape of his neck, fingers pressing down into the bond gland just at the juncture of shoulder and neck, and held him there. Almost instantly Aziraphale stopped moving, stopped whining. His eyes fell blissfully shut and he keened into the touch instead. When his lashes finally fluttered open again, there was enough clarity to them that Crowley felt safe to continue. 

“I need you to talk to me, Aziraphale. I’ll help you if you want me to. Or I’ll just stay and stand guard for you. Whatever you want, Angel, anything at all.”

“You.”

“Wot?”

Aziraphale groaned, head tilted back and eyes clamped shut. “You, Crowley. Just  _ you _ ! I need you!”

“Let me see your eyes when you say that.”

A beat passed, then another, then one more before Aziraphale drew in a steadying breath, squared his shoulders, and let their eyes meet. 

“You are the only person I trust,” Aziraphale started, “Take me to bed,  _ please _ . This feels so much stronger than the ones I’ve had before. Help me.” 

Crowley stared for a moment. Somewhere in his mind, a box appeared, accompanied by an annoying tinny bell sound.  _ Crowley.exe has stopped working _ . Aziraphale trusted him? Him, Crowley, Original Tempter, Serpent of Eden, terribly-bad-at-his-job-of-being-a-demon? Aziraphale trusted  _ him _ ? Wait, no, that wasn’t the important part of what the angel had just said. Crowley knew he was trusted. They’d stopped Armageddon together, been friends for 6,000 years, saved each other from complete annihilation by their respected head offices, of course he was trusted. The important part of what had been said was, “than the ones I’ve had before.”  _ That _ was the important bit. How could he not have known there had been other Heats before? They’d been friends for  _ 6,000 YEARS! _

A low whine and a new wave of pheromones washed over him, slamming his mind into overdrive in order to catch up. Right. Bed. Aziraphale trusted Crowley to take him to bed and help him through his Heat. He could do that. Didn’t mean anything, right? Course it didn’t. He was just helping Aziraphale; all he had to do was think of it as a new part of their Arrangement. Lending a hand when needed, so to speak. 

Without a word, Crowley pulled Aziraphale in against him, face buried in the crook of his neck and simply breathed him in. Aziraphale shivered in his grasp. Oh help him but Aziraphale smelled so damn good. He mouthed at the sensitive skin, reveling in the gasps that he could draw out of the literal angel in his arms, and nosed his way up to the soft skin just behind his ear to kiss and lick and lavish attention on. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Crowley found himself wishing and longing for things to be different. So many lonely nights he’d dreamed of hearing those beautiful words whispered against his lips or into his ear, “ _ Take me to bed, my dear. _ ” He’d worked himself through enough Ruts in his time, just imagining what it would be like to have Aziraphale in his arms, in his bed, wrapped tight around him, gasping his name and crying out in sweet release when he’d finally tie with him. It was a dream he’d hoped to make a reality once they saved the world from destruction. His dreams weren’t quite like this, though. 

This wasn’t Aziraphale choosing Crowley because he wanted to be his mate, to Bond with him and proclaim to the universe at large that he loved a demon and was loved by one in return. Proud to show off his mating bite. No. No this was Aziraphale accepting the fact that Crowley was the only one he could trust, not to mention the only Alpha around. This was a lack of options. 

Soft, blunt fingers worked at the clasp of his belt, frantically pawing at the front of his impossibly tight jeans, drawing him out of his depressing self-degradation. Aziraphale’s whimpers and whines had gotten more insistent, even so, Crowley was the Alpha here. Without thinking, he growled low in his throat, gripping the nape of Aziraphale’s neck once more. Aziraphale whimpered one more time, though this time instead of submitting, he pushed at Crowley’s chest, the palms of his hands burning through Crowley’s shirt. Instincts were beginning to take over for them both. The need to chase and the need to  _ be _ chased. To make the other work for what they both wanted. Needless posturing that had Crowley’s blood racing just the same. 

He let his grip loosen just enough for Aziraphale to slip away from him and take two steps back. Those blue eyes that Crowley loved so much were dark with desire and lust. Their respected scents filled the air, seducing the other and pulling them deeper into their primal needs. Aziraphale stood just out of reach, his chest heaving as he panted. Crowley had gone completely still, waiting and watching, the snake staring down his mouse dinner. Tension hung heavy between them and he was silently amazed and pleased when he saw Aziraphale glance down to the bulge in his jeans and draw in another shuddering breath. The tip of that little pink tongue swiping across his lips as he continued to stare at Crowley’s crotch. 

Suddenly, as if realizing what he’d done, Aziraphale’s eyes snapped back up to lock with Crowley’s. That was all Crowley needed. He’d been waiting for Aziraphale to set things into motion -- the Omega was always the one to set things into motion. With a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, Crowley’s iridescent black wings snapped into existence behind him, fluffed and ready to give chase. Aziraphale yelped and lept to the side, hurrying out of Crowley’s reach. 

Now, in the old days, the days before the Fall, when two angels decided to mate, they would give chase to each other through the heavens and stars. Entwined in an intricate dance that could potentially, if not rather crudely, be considered a sort of foreplay. The Omega would take action first, soaring off into the distance to make their intended follow. It was, in a way, a test for the Alpha to prove their loyalty to their mate. A willingness to follow them to the end of the world and back, to never give up on them, to keep them and catch them should they tumble. 

They obviously didn’t have that luxury, all they had was Aziraphale’s little flat and the bookstore it sat above. Still, it seemed to be more than enough. Like a bolt of lightning, Aziraphale had taken off down the stairs, weaving his way through the bookcases of the mezzanine, never looking behind him, just trusting that Crowley was there giving chase. He circled his way back to the stairs and cried out in surprise as Crowley appeared in front of him. White wings sprang forth behind him, feathers fluttering through the air as he turned and soared over the railing only to stumble upon landing on the floor below. A shadow passed over his head, followed by the delicious smell of spiced cider. It was enough of a distraction that Crowley nearly captured him and it was only pure luck that Aziraphale managed to slip away again. 

Through the shelves and stacks they moved, around the pillars and over furniture, their scents criss-crossing over the entire ground floor of the shop. Marking it as theirs. Their home. 

With two more close calls, Aziraphale darted back up into his flat and pressed his back flush against the wall furthest from the door. Though his Heat had never been as strong as this one before, they’d also been rather uncomfortable, and now he knew why. He’d not been able to give in, to run and have all that tension worked out of him before he could find any kind of relief. He’d always just locked himself away, clenched his jaw through the worst of it, and accepted it as just the way it was. He knew better now. Or at least, he would once the haze of his Heat had finally passed. 

A moment later Crowley’s lanky body appeared in the doorway, wings fluttering behind him as he stalked slowly forward. His eyes had gone completely yellow, the deep black slits locked on him, tracking every little twitch he made. Still panting, Aziraphale waited one slow step, then another, before he dove towards his bedroom. Just hours before the room had been filled to the brim with books and such, now it was spotless, his bed freshly made with clean sheets and a small arrangement of flowers sitting on the windowsill. 

Crowley dove after him, slamming the door shut to keep Aziraphale from escaping again. Slowly they circled each other, never taking their eyes off the other. Crowley’s wings extended to near their full span, effectively blocking Aziraphale from getting to the door as he made his way deeper into the room, herding the angel in whatever direction he saw fit. In a desperate move to keep going, Aziraphale scurried to crawl over his bed in an attempt to put more space between them. 

In hindsight, that wasn’t the brightest thing he’d ever done. 

Black wings suddenly surrounded him, a heavy body pressed him down onto the bed, holding him there as he squirmed and struggled in a feigned attempt to get away. Crowley growled, the low vibration felt through Aziraphale’s back and against his wings. He whined and squirmed again, this time to press his rear up against Crowley’s prominent erection. 

With a snap, their clothes were gone, Aziraphale suddenly hugging a pillow to his face that he hadn’t been just a moment before. Smooth hands stroked down the soft skin of his back, gently massaging the base of his wings. 

“Shhh…” soothed Crowley, his lips brushing over the shell of Aziraphale’s ear. “Shhh...I’ve got you...I’ll take care of you. Would you like that? Would you like for me to take care of you?”

Words, which had never failed him before, had suddenly become too difficult to form. Instead, all Aziraphale could do was whine softly and nod, hips bucking up to seek any kind of relief he could get. 

Crowley pressed the length of his body down over top of Aziraphale, holding him down against the soft down mattress. He gave a soft warning growl and leaned down to nip at Aziraphale’s bare shoulder to remind him of his place. It was enough to keep him still, at least for a moment. A moment was all Crowley needed, though. A moment was enough time for him to slide his body down Aziraphale’s, laving across heated skin and relishing the salty sweet taste of him. He made his way lower and lower, pausing briefly to nip at the swell of Aziraphale’s ass. Slick had long ago begun to cling to the angel’s inner thighs, more forming at the source the closer Crowley got to it. 

The sight of Aziraphale already slicked and open had Crowley drawing up short. Miracles. Right. Of course Aziraphale would miracle himself ready. He was rather impatient at times, after all. Still, it reminded him that this wasn’t real. It didn’t mean anything. Aziraphale wasn’t interested in Bonding with him, didn’t want to be claimed as a demon’s mate. It was a means to the end. Nothing more. He was there to help his best friend through this. That was it. 

“Crowley…?” 

The soft whine jolted him back to reality. Aziraphale was still panting, eyes still hazy with want, but he’d managed to tuck his wings away again to look over his shoulder in concern. 

Right then. Crowley had a job to do. 

“Just admiring the view, angel,” he cooed. 

Pink dusted across Aziraphale’s already rudy cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. He ducked his eyes submissively and pressed his face against the pillow again, hugging it in a way that only his eyes could be seen above it. 

No one had any right to look that fucking adorable.

Especially not an ageless angel that spent centuries reminding him that they were supposed to be enemies. 

With one last glance down to the place where Aziraphale’s legs met in the middle, Crowley slowly nudged his knee between those slicked thighs, opening them wide enough for him to settle between. He ran his hands slowly across Aziraphale’s body, rubbing small, soothing circles into the small of his back where muscles had stretched and tightened, the angel’s corporation adjusting itself in preparation for a potential mating. Crowley supposed, rather sadly if truth be told, that it was probably a good thing that God had decided that there would be no more creation of angelic life without Her knowledge. Aziraphale wouldn’t have wanted to be stuck with a half demonic child for the rest of eternity, after all. 

He didn’t know if this would be the only time he’d be allowed to help Aziraphale through a Heat. Heaven, he didn’t even know how often the bloody angel even went through them! All he did know was that he wanted to make it something good for Aziraphale. If this was to be the first time Aziraphale ever had help through a Heat, it meant he was a virgin, which meant he deserved something special. Not just a rough fuck from an Alpha caught in the haze of an Omega in Heat’s scent. 

As he massaged along Aziraphale’s spine, watching as he relaxed more and more, Crowley reached one hand down to slide between Aziraphale’s hip and the mattress. The tips of his fingers brushed along the length of the smaller cock, taking in its shape and smooth texture. The way it tried so valiantly to pulse against his hand. He wanted to feel it. To wrap his fingers all the way around it and coax it to its full hardness. 

Leaning forward, making sure to keep as much of himself pressed against Aziraphale’s back as he could, he pressed a soft kiss to the place behind his ear. 

“Lift up onto your knees for me, Angel. Let me touch you.” 

A shudder of pleasure went through Aziraphale as he scrambled to do as instructed. Oh, he was gorgeous. So, so gorgeous. Crowley’s own hard length bobbed against his stomach, the clear bead of pre-cum smearing over the scattering of coarse red hair that led from navel to pelvic. While an Omega’s penis wasn’t as sensitive as an Alpha’s, it still managed to draw the most obscene noises out of Aziraphale’s mouth as soon as Crowley had it in his grasp. 

Aziraphale’s hands fisted into the pillows above his head, his legs trembling to support himself as Crowley worked to bring him pleasure. There’d be more waves before Aziraphale’s Heat was over, which meant there’d be plenty of time for the mindlessness of just trying to get the job done. For this first time, though. No, Crowley was still determined to make this first time something that neither of them would forget; and maybe, Crowley hoped, Aziraphale wouldn’t regret when he came back to his senses. 

It didn’t take long for Aziraphale to start thrusting into Crowley’s fist, gasping and grasping for purchase at anything in reach. With one last tug, Crowley watched Aziraphale arch his back, body tense and spasming as he came across Crowley’s fingers and the sheets. He didn’t make a sound as he came, not even a whimper, he just shoved his face into the pillow and rode out the waves in silent ecstasy. 

Crowley waited for a moment, awestruck at what had just happened, what he’d just caused. He waited until Aziraphale’s shoulders began to relax, his back slowly slouching back towards the bed. With a small flick of the wrist, Crowley vanished away the mess and instantly provided a warm dry spot for Aziraphale’s spent cock to rest against. Again he began to slowly and gently pet down the length of his angel’s spine, gently clasping the nape of his neck in reassurance before making his way back down and then up again. 

Heart in his throat, Crowley leaned down to press kisses against Aziraphale’s shoulder blades. When he spoke, he murmured the words directly against his skin. “Shhh...I’ve still got you, Angel. I’ve still got you. Did that feel good?” 

Aziraphale could only nod. 

“Mmm...good. That’s good. Stay here for me, yeah? Just like you are.” 

Crowley slid off the bed and started across the room, stopping only when he heard Aziraphale give a soft sob. He turned to look back at the bed, surprised to see Aziraphale’s eyes shining in the dim light of the room, a hand stretched out for him in a silent plea. Oh as if this whole blasted thing didn’t hurt him inside enough as it was! In less than two steps, he was back at the bed, one leg bent under himself as he sat on the edge and grasped Aziraphale’s hand in his. He kissed across each knuckle, each finger pad, before moving on to his palm and wrist. 

“No, no. Shh...s’alright. I’m not leaving you,”  _ I could never leave you _ , he added to himself. “I’m just getting something. Not even leaving the room. I’ll be in sight the whole time. Hey, look at me, Angel.” He dipped his head to the side, waiting until those blissed out eyes met his, before gifting Aziraphale with a soft, fond smile. “Be back in a jiffy, right? What is it you said that one time? Two shakes of a snake’s tail? Sheep’s tail.  _ Lamb! _ Lamb’s tail. Like snake’s tail better, myself.” 

A soft giggle bubbled up from Aziraphale as he pressed his face back down into the pillow, seemingly content in knowing that Crowley wasn’t going to be abandoning him. Crowley pressed a kiss to the damp curls and moved to stand again. His dark wings shuddered behind him as he made his way to Aziraphale’s antique, though never-used, chest of drawers. He needed a minute to ground himself, to remind himself that this wasn’t what he hoped it was. Yes, fine, he had finally gotten Aziraphale into bed. Yes, he was going to get to finally know him in that oh-so-coveted Biblical sense. But he wasn’t going to get to claim him. He wasn’t going to be able to lavish all the attention he wanted to on that Bond gland, working it into a softness with his tongue, readying it for when the time came to sink himself in every way into Aziraphale’s body and bind them together as partners, as  _ mates _ . 

_ Of all the twisted, cruel, painful things you’ve put me through,  _ he thought with a growl, his snake eyes cast to the ceiling and a snarl curling his lip,  _ this is the worst you could ever do to me. _

A bottle of fragrant oil appeared on the dresser top, snapped into existence just as Crowley turned to start his way back to the bed. Aziraphale’s eyes were closed, his lips parted, as he rocked his hips against the mattress, one hand stretched behind him to rub where it ached the most. 

“Oi. None of that. I’m taking care of you, remember? Put that arm back under your chest.”

Without opening his eyes, Aziraphale drew his arm back under himself, though he continued to hump awkwardly at the bed below him. Crowley sighed softly, poured a bit of oil into the palm of his hand, and set to work rubbing it across Aziraphale’s shoulders, his lower back, but especially against his neck. Crowley needed to try and cover Aziraphale’s scent, he couldn’t lose control just because he got drunk off it. And if that failed, well, he definitely wasn’t going to be licking across his neck, which means he wouldn’t be biting into it either. The taste of the oil would make sure of that. 

Satisfied that he’d done everything he could to prevent accidentally binding himself to the angel (or rather, binding the angel to him), Crowley crawled back up onto the bed and settled himself between Aziraphale’s legs once more. 

“Ready?” 

Aziraphale could only nod. 

Right then. He’d best get to it. 

Closing his eyes, Crowley reached down to give himself a few cursory tugs, just enough to give his cock a reminder of what they were there to do. In his mind, Crowley pictured a different time, possibly even a different place. Hell, a different universe. Somewhere that he wasn’t a demon, Aziraphale wasn’t an angel, and they were coming together for the first time because they  _ wanted  _ to. They  _ longed  _ to. Because Aziraphale had tearfully agreed to be his mate and couldn’t wait a moment longer. It was a nice thought, enough of one to keep him from feeling the heartache as he slipped the narrow tip of his cock into the hot wetness that was waiting for him. 

That was the thing about being a demon with an imagination, he was able to envision a different life like that. 

He groaned as he sunk into Aziraphale completely, his own hands gripping those plush hips tight enough to bruise as he held the angel still. 

In his vision, Aziraphale cooed and sighed when Crowley filled him for the first time, murmuring praises through his Heat haze, professing his love for the Alpha. 

Beneath him, Aziraphale clutched at his pillow tighter, shoving his face into it so hard Crowley would almost fear him suffocating himself if he knew neither of them truly needed to breathe. He waited a moment, giving them both time to adjust and acclimate before he finally began to rock himself against Aziraphale’s body. 

The Aziraphale of his imagination would look back over his shoulder to meet Crowley’s eyes long enough for them both to smile before Crowley struck against that hot spot deep within him and made those gorgeous blue eyes roll back into his head with a deep groan of pleasure. Oh the sounds he’d make, spurring Crowley on. 

Crowley tightened his hold on Aziraphale’s hips, pistoning himself just a bit harder, just a bit faster into him. The only sounds to fill the room were their combined ragged breaths, and their bodies meeting over and over again. 

He’d shower Aziraphale in so much love, profess all the things he was too scared to say in reality. Make sure Aziraphale knew that he was Crowley’s one and only. That there had never and could never be anyone else for him. 

Tightness built up in the pit of his stomach, that hot burning coil of yearning that signaled a turning point. He felt himself begin to throb, Aziraphale’s walls fluttering around him as he drove himself in again and again. It wouldn’t be long before it’d be all over. Well, before this first time was over. 

Crowley would wrap his arms around Aziraphale’s chest, hugging him close as he continued to bring them both pleasure before pressing him down into the bed, frantic thrusts drawing the most delicious sounds out of his angel before -- 

Crowley slammed himself into Aziraphale one last time, his mouth falling open as he felt himself swell and knot deep within Aziraphale. Just as in his imagination, he dropped himself over the other’s back, arms wrapped tight around his chest to keep him in place, and in a moment of high bliss, went to bite against the gland prominently on display by Aziraphale’s head being drawn to one side in submission. An offering that Crowley nearly took. An offering that wouldn’t have been made under normal circumstances. He caught himself as his lips touched skin, his tongue tasting just enough of the oil to make him jerk back in distaste. 

Aziraphale trembled under him, soft sobs of relief washing over him as Crowley tucked his wings back into the ether and gently lowered them both down onto their sides. One arm slipped under Aziraphale’s head, letting him use it as a pillow while the other came to rest across his waist. He pulled their bodies flush to one another, tucking his knees into the crook on Aziraphale’s, holding him tight and secure as his body continued to release within him. A futile attempt to create a life that  _ She _ would never permit. 

Still, instincts were instincts, and Crowley found himself gently rubbing across Aziraphale’s soft belly. His hand dipped down low where, in another life, in the world of his imagination, the evidence of their love making, their mating and Bonding, would slowly begin to take shape. 

In his arms, Aziraphale gave a pleased little hum and gentle wiggle to press himself against Crowley all the more. His own soft hand coming down to rest over Crowley’s as he drifted into a light doze. A shuddered breath escaped Crowley as he pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s hair, arms tightening around him. Wetness that had nothing to do with the sweat covering their bodies clung to Crowley’s lashes and trickled down his cheeks as he buried his nose between Aziraphale and the pillow. 

“Rest up, Angel,” he whispered, and if everyone could pretend his voice didn’t tremble and wasn’t as weak as it actually was, that would be fantastic. With a soft sniffle, he pressed his lips to one soft, bare shoulder. “S’alright. Just rest. ‘M not going anywhere.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, if anyone feels inclined to podfic this, or any of my stories, you definitely have my permission to. And like I said, I am definitely willing to expand on this, add a fic of the aftermath, just let me know if you're interested in that in the comments below.
> 
> Also, I'm a sad and lonely person without many fandom friends for GOmens, so, if anyone would like to come over to tumblr and say hi or yell at me about my fics or about Aziraphale/Crowley, please do? You can find me over there under the name lt-commander-aly


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